Consequences
by comtria
Summary: After Lindsay and Nick "do the deed," Lindsay has to face the possibility of pregnancy and the consequences that go along with it.


I felt nauseous.  That wasn't good.  It was my second symptom of pregnancy.  The first, of course, being that my period was late.  Actually, nonexistent.  It  was due nearly three weeks ago.  And it had been about five weeks since Nick and I had . . . been together.  Great.

I lay in bed with my hands on my stomach.  I knew that Mom would find out that something was wrong soon, like she always did.  Then Dad would kill me, but I guess that wouldn't be a bad thing, because at least then, as a dead person, I would no longer have feelings of remorse.

It wasn't really my fault.  I mean, obviously it was, but Nick was high and extremely horny when we did it.  I already had my shoes off, so I felt comfortable kicking my jeans off, and then it just kind of happened.  He did all the work . . . but I'll spare you the details.  I was a virgin for almost seventeen years of my life, and that's good enough, considering how many times I know Nick wanted it.  I still didn't know if I wanted it that night, but apparently I didn't _not_ want it.  Oh, whatever.  The deed was done, and now so was my life.

"Oh, Linds, thank you."  His voice echoed in my head.  He was stroking my hair.  I couldn't believe that we had just been so intimate, it had been so sudden.  And in his own basement, with his dad upstairs watching TV.  Seriously!  How weird.  It was all I could think about for the next few weeks.

Ironically, the first thing I said afterwards was, "Shouldn't you have used a condom?"

"It's okay.  It's okay."  More stroking of the hair and him kissing me on the lips.  I hoped he didn't have herpes.  Or syphilis.  Although if he had had the latter he probably would have been displaying symptoms by then, I suppose.  But you never know.  I didn't even know how many girls he had been with before me, but he knew that he was my first, and that probably made him feel all special.

We lay there for about half an hour and then we both got dressed and he gave me a final kiss before I went home.  I smiled at him, but I'm pretty sure I looked weird.  Dad is pretty psychic, and as I walked in the front door of my house I froze, hoping he wouldn't be able to read my mind tonight.

"How was the game, sweetheart?" Mom had asked me as I tread into the living room.

That's right, Kim and I had gone to a football game, supposedly.  "Oh, it was, okay, I suppose."  I shrugged.  Too many pauses in my words.  I'm not good at lying.

I swallowed hard, trying to fight the "morning" sickness.  No, no, that's not what it was, I just had a flu.  Maybe I had mononucleosis, that's where all my "pregnancy" symptoms had come from.

"Oh, face it, you're screwed," I told myself.

I figured as long as I never took a pregnancy test I would never have to face the fact that I was actually pregnant.

Then the fear caught in my throat.  I hate it when I think too much, something like that always happens.  I have to face my problems sometime.  Damn.

I sat up and closed my eyes as all the blood rushed away from my head.  It was 7:30 and my family and I had just finished dinner.  I was in my pajamas already and hadn't even bothered to do my homework.  There was too much to think about tonight.

I dialed Kim's phone number and hoped she would pick up.

"Hello?"

That annoying, whiny voice of her mother.

"Um, hi, is Kim there?"

"No.  Who is this?"

"Just . . . a friend."  I swallowed.

"Well, 'just a friend,' you'll have to call her back some other time.  Kim is cleaning her-"

"Mom?  Is it for me?" I heard in the background.

"Kimberly, if that room isn't sparkling when I get in there you had just better pray that you'll live to see tomorra'!" her mother threatened.

"Um, never mind.  Bye."  I slammed the phone down.

Who else was there to go to?  Not Nick.  He had been looking at me with a very strange glimmer in his eye since – you know – had happened.  Not anyone in my family, even Mom.  Definitely not Millie.  I laughed at the thought.  I just hoped Kim would understand, although I was sure she had had many a pregnancy scare in her day.

I sighed and lay down on my bed, taking deep breaths and hoping to fall asleep and wake up not pregnant.  Fat chance.

The next morning as I was getting dressed I noticed that my jeans were getting a little tighter.  Symptom number three.  

I nibbled at the corner of a piece of bread for breakfast.  Mom came into the kitchen, closely followed by Dad, and I quickly grabbed a jar of jelly.  

"I think I'm going to go to school early," I announced.

"Oh, Lindsay, you've barely eaten.  I was going to make pancakes for you and Sam," said Mom.

Sam looked up from his bowl of cereal.  "Why?"

"Just because I feel like it."  Mom pinched Sam's cheeks.  I rolled my eyes and got dizzy.

Clutching the kitchen sink, I steadied myself and made my way toward the door.  "Sorry, Mom, maybe tomorrow."  I bit off more of my bread and left.

The air outside made me feel slightly better.  I just hoped I could make it through school today.

Thank God, Kim was standing close to my locker, alone, holding her jacket in front of her.  I recognized this as her "pissed" stance.

"Hey, what's up?" I asked tentatively.

"Daniel's just being a total jerk again," Kim informed me.

"Look, Kim," I said, biting my lip, "I need to talk to you."

"If this is about you and Nick I'm really not in the mood, Lindsay."  Kim rolled her eyes to the side and kicked a locker with the back of her foot.

"Could we go somewhere private?" I asked.

Kim stared at me and her eyes widened.  "What is it?"

"Come on."  I pulled her into the girls' bathroom.

"What, Lindsay, tell me!" Kim demanded.

I sighed and said, "I think I'm pregnant."

"Well, it was bound to happen sometime," said Kim.  I was a little surprised at her reaction, but Kim is the cynical type anyway.  "You being a little slut and all."

"Okay, first of all . . ."  I lowered my voice.  "Nick and I have only had sex once.  And second, I need your help."

"Have you taken a test?" Kim inquired.

"No," I said.

"Well then, take one."

"Really?" I asked sarcastically, rolling my eyes.

"Look," said Kim, "you can come over to my house this afternoon and do it, okay?"

"Thanks for all your support," I told her sarcastically.

A toilet flushed and Millie emerged from one of the stalls.  She pushed past me to the sinks and blasted the water.

"Oh my God," I said under my breath.  I handed her a paper towel.  "Hey, Millie."

Millie snatched the paper towel and began drying her hands, eyeing me suspiciously.  "Are you okay, Lindsay?  You don't look so good."

Kim herded Millie toward the door of the bathroom, saying, "She's fine."

"She was eavesdropping on us!" I shouted.  "Come on, we have been in here for like five minutes.  I bet she was listening to every word we said."

"Stop being so paranoid," Kim told me.  "If that test is positive you'll have a lot more things to worry about than Millie Kentner."

Mr. Kowchevsky annoyed me.  A lot.

My head was down on my desk in math.  I felt horrible.

"Ms.  Weir, are we apparently not in the mood for math today?"

I looked up and groaned.  The sight of his face made me feel even more sick.  "I'm sorry, Mr. Kowchevsky," I muttered, choking on my words.

"Hey, do you need to go to the nurse?" he asked.  His tone of voice softened, for him.  He still sounded like he was barking out orders like a military sergeant.

"No," I said.

Math was my last class.  We only had twenty minutes left.  I hoped I could make it.

"Could I get a drink of water?" I asked.

"I think you'll survive," Mr. Kowchevsky told me, and went back to writing on the board.  "Hey!  Keep your head up.  Look alive.  This is math class."

I stumbled out of Mr. Kowchevsky's class as the bell rang and made my way to my locker, where Kim was waiting.  "Kim, I feel awful," I moaned.

"Just try not to pass out on the way to my house, okay?  You'll look like a loser," Kim warned.

I slammed my locker shut and followed her out to her car.  The ride was nauseatingly bumpy.  Finally, Kim screeched to a stop in front of her house and I quickly climbed out.

"My mom isn't home right now, but you'd better be quick," said Kim.

"Do you have a pregnancy test here?" I asked her.

"Yeah, well, my mom has some because she's a loser who's afraid of getting pregnant with her own husband," Kim informed me.   "They're in the bathroom, come on."

"I really hope these are accurate," I said.

The entire four-minute wait I paced around Kim's house.  Finally, she yelled, "Lindsay, come here."

She was holding the test.

"It's positive."

"What?" I cried.

She shoved it in my face.  "Look.  Blue.  Positive.  Look at the directions on the box, Lindsay.  You are so pregnant."

"Oh, God."  I groped for something to hold onto.  "What am I supposed to do?"  Suddenly Kim hugged me.

"I'm sorry, sweetie," she said.

Had Kim Kelly just called me "sweetie"?  Impossible.  It must have been the pregnancy hormones.

"Wait, but that doesn't mean I'm pregnant, does it?"  I started to panic.  "I mean, those things get messed up sometimes, right?"

"Look, Lindsay, you'd better go to a doctor or something," Kim advised me, back to her tough self.  "Your dad is going to be really pissed."

"I better get home."  I brushed past her and picked up my purse from her kitchen table.

"Wait, don't you want me to drive you?"

"It's okay.  I need the walk."

I started home, hoping that somehow I'd never get there.

At home, I flopped down on the couch and turned on the TV.  Sam, Neal, and Bill were playing some kind of card game on the floor.  "Where are Mom and Dad?" I mumbled.

"Mom went to the store and Dad had to work late," Sam informed me.

"Good," I said under my breath.

A few seconds later I heard the kitchen door open and shut.  Then Mom called, "Sam, could you come in here and help me unload groceries?"

"Mom," Sam whined, "Lindsay's here, make her do it."

Mom walked into the room and looked at me.  "Oh, Lindsay, you're home.  I hope there was nothing you needed at the store that I could have picked up for you."

Then her eyes caught mine.  And I knew that she knew.  Somehow, something in her expression told me that I wasn't fooling her anymore.  I quickly got up and followed her back into the kitchen.

"So what're we having for dinner?" I asked casually as I piled junk food into the kitchen cupboards.

"Oh, I think just spaghetti," said Mom.  "You know, something quick and easy."

"Oh.  Um, Mom, can I go to my room?"

"Sure, sweetheart."  Mom looked at me and tried to smile.  I broke into a sweat.  "I'll tell you when dinner's ready."

"Okay."  I nodded and practically sprinted to my room.

After staring at the ceiling for two hours Sam appeared in my doorway.  "Um, Lindsay?" he asked.  I sat up halfway.  "Mom wanted me to ask you if there was something wrong," he said.

I laughed.  "No.  Why?"

"We had dinner an hour ago," he continued.

Oh.  That explained the persistent sound I had heard awhile ago.  It had sounded strangely like my mom saying "Lindsay.  Lindsay.  Lindsay.  Lindsay?"

"She wants to talk to you," Sam informed me.

"Great."  I groaned and leaned my head against my headboard.

Mom came in carrying a plate of spaghetti.  "I brought you some leftovers," she told me.

"Thanks," I said, and set the plate on my dresser.

Sam disappeared and Mom closed the door behind him.  I swallowed and started to breathe heavily.  That's when it hit me.  I was pregnant.  But I wouldn't just be pregnant forever.  I was going to have a baby.  A living thing.

Mom sat beside me on my bed.  "Lindsay, I think I know what's going on."

I was afraid to say anything.

"I know that you and Nick are more serious, and your father and I can't follow you around everywhere and monitor you constantly."

I looked at my hands, folded in my lap.

"I thought we'd had this talk before, but apparently we didn't get through to you.  Now, Lindsay, your father doesn't know about this and we don't have to tell him."  She was dead serious, as opposed to her usual fun-loving, gentle-natured self.  I tried to look anywhere but at her face.  "I know that you and Nick-"  Her voice dropped to a whisper, "-had sex."

"Oh," was all I could say.

"You've never acted like this before, and I know how girls act after their _first time_," she hissed.

Normally I would have said something along the lines of "God, Mom, you're so old-fashioned."  But I didn't have it in me.

"Lindsay."  Mom placed her hand on top of mine.  "Did you use protection?"

I turned away and covered my face.  "No."

"Are – are you _pregnant_?"

"Noooooo."  This time it was more of an I'm-in-denial moan.  I still couldn't look at her.

"Lindsay, I think you are."

"Mom, please," I begged, "just go away."

"Lindsay," she said, her voice tone even and firm, "if you are, you need to tell me."

I turned around.  "I don't know," I said, my teeth clenched.

"Lindsay, you are not stupid, and I wasn't born yesterday."

"Fine," I stated.  "I..."  And the tears came.  I always crack under pressure.  I leaned into my mother's arms and cried.

"Shh," she said, but not in a comforting manner.  "All right, all right."  Finally she pushed away from me.  "I'm disappointed in you, Lindsay," she told me before turning off the lights and leaving me alone in my dark room.

"Pregnant?" my dad screamed.  "You just let some boy go and knock you up?  Haven't you ever heard of using protection, Lindsay?"

Any time I get yelled at by my dad it's my duty to cower in the corner of the couch and look up at him fearfully.  This was no exception.  

Sam was spending the night at Bill's house, so my dad had no excuse not to yell.  And of course, as soon as my mom had gotten the story from me she had turned right around and told my dad.  But maybe it was for the best.  I couldn't hide it from them forever.

"Daddy," I said, "it's not like I wanted it to happen!  God, can't you ever see the other side of the story?"

"There is no other side, Lindsay.  You did what stupid teenagers do and now you're suffering the consequence.  Congratulations.  You've just earned yourself a ticket straight to the welfare line."

"Harold, don't yell at her," said Mom distractedly, although I had a feeling she wasn't exactly on my side in this issue.  "Lindsay, what are we going to do about this?"

"I don't know," I said.

"Well, I guess you'll have to get a job," said Dad.  "And tell that scumbag who slept with you that he's not getting off so easy on this.  Has he ever gotten a girl in trouble before?"

"Dad!" I cried.  "I don't know."

"And you can forget about college," Dad added.

I started crying again, but this time out of anger.  "Can't you just let me live my own life?"  Okay, I didn't really know what that meant.  I just wanted him to back off and let me deal with my problem by myself.

"Harold, Lindsay, I don't think either of you is in the right mind to talk about this," Mom interjected.  "We all need to get some sleep."

"This is not over," said Dad.

When I met up with Kim, Daniel, and Ken at school on Monday they all just stared at me.

"Kim?  Did you tell them?" I said.

Daniel smirked.  "Hell yeah she did.  What do you think, she doesn't have a mouth the size of Texas?"

"You jerk," Kim remarked.

"Does Nick know?"

"No, sweetie, you'll have to tell him."  This time "sweetie" was used derogatorily.  Apparently all of Kim's sympathy for me was gone.

"Lindsay, I just want to say, I'm sorry," said Ken, who actually was being sincere for once.  "Or, I mean, congratulations, if, you know, if that's what you want."

"Yeah," I sighed, "I really don't know what I want."

"Are you gonna keep it?" Daniel asked.

I shrugged.  "Yeah."  I had thought about not keeping the baby, of course, but I wasn't the type of person to run away from my problems.  Not to mention, my dad would have killed me and refused to pay anyway.  And I just didn't think I could do it.  That sounds stupid, but I guess it's a part of Millie that's rubbed off on me.

"Hey guys, what's up?"  Nick came up to me and kissed me on the cheek.

"Nick, we need to talk."  I pulled him aside and glanced back at the rest of my friends.  They all waved at me.  I rolled my eyes.

After dissolving into a puddle of salt water for about the fourth time that week, I was finally able to tell Nick about the predicament I was in.  He hugged me and told me it would be okay.  Then he said, "I still love you, Lindsay."

I wanted to love him.  I did love him.  But I couldn't deal with him right now.

"Yeah.  I have to go to class," I said as I brushed him aside.

"So, like, what are you going to name it?" Kim asked me at lunch, playing with her milkshake.

"Yes, Kim, I think that's the biggest of Lindsay's problems right now.  What to name her illegitimate child."  Ken's sarcasm was back.

"Shut up, jerk," Kim said, "I was just curious."

"I don't know," I shrugged, almost glad to be able to discuss a slightly more lighthearted topic.  "I really like Aaron for a boy."

Daniel and Ken cracked up simultaneously.

"What?" I asked.  "I think it's kind of nice, right?"

"Yeah, it's nice," Nick agreed.

"Yeah, a nice biblical name, because we know how religious Lindsay is," said Kim.

"You don't have to be religious to like biblical names," I defended myself.

"So, for a girl?" Kim prompted me.

"I think if I have a girl I'll name her Kim.  So I can always remember you."  I stood up and took my tray of food to the garbage.

Nick followed me.  "Lindsay, are you really okay with all of this?"

"Of course I'm not okay, Nick," I said.

"Screw it," he said, and walked away.

I stared after him.  What was his problem?  He wasn't going to be the one raising a baby and trying to graduate at the same time.  I angrily tossed a crumpled-up napkin into the garbage.

"Nick!" I called after him, running up to him.  "Are _you_ okay with this?  Because you don't seem like it.  It's your baby too, you know," I said in a hushed voice as I backed him into a corner.

"I don't know what to say, Lindsay," he said.  "I made a mistake, right?  Now, what, I'm gonna have a kid?"

"Yeah.  You are," I told him.

"Are you sure?  I mean, have you been to a doctor yet?"

"No.  My mom's making an appointment for me next week.  But, Nick, the test was positive, and I'm really late.  And I have all the symptoms.  I think there comes a point when you can't deny it anymore."

"Yeah."  He sighed.  "Yeah."

"So you're going to have to tell your parents or something, because once they find out I'm pregnant I don't think they'll think anyone else is the father."

"They don't have to know," he insisted.  I glanced down and saw that he kept opening and closing his fist.

"If you don't want to support me it's your choice," I told him.  "Just don't pretend to be my boyfriend anymore, okay?"

"Lindsay!  God!"  He put his hands to his head.  "What am I supposed to _do_?  We're both in the same situation here!"

"I know!"

"Look, Linds, maybe you should just get rid of it," he said.  "You know, we're both young…"

"No," I said.  "I can't.  I don't want to talk about that anymore."

"Why not?  Come on, Lindsay, don't let your father scare you off like this anymore.  It's your choice."

"I made my choice," I said.  "I'm going to keep it."

He sighed.  "Then what about adoption?"

I shrugged.

"Okay," he said, "you can give it to someone else who can raise it better than you could."

For some reason I was beginning to get angry.  Maybe because he was calling the baby "it."  Maybe because I felt really sick again.  Stupid cafeteria food.

The bell rang and I scooped up my books from the table and began to walk down the hall toward class.  Kim followed me.  "What did he say?" she asked.

"I don't think he wants to have anything to do with this baby," I told her.

We walked into class and I sat down and put my head on my desk.  I felt like I was rocking back and forth in a boat cabin.  I could barely focus was eyes.

"Are you okay?" Kim asked me.

I looked up at her and the jarring motion gave me a pounding headache.  "No, I feel like crap."

"You look really sick," she said.  "Do you want some aspirin or something?"

"No!" I shouted.  "It's not good for the baby."

"Ms. Weir, would you care to come up to the front of the class and demonstrate how to balance atoms?" our teacher asked.

"Uhh…sure."  I tottered up to the front of the room, rubbing my eyes.  I had no idea what I was supposed to do, but I really didn't care.  Grabbing the chalk, I steadied myself and placed my hand on the blackboard.  Just as the chalk touched the board I could feel my hand slip down, leaving a scraggly white line.  Then I couldn't feel my feet.  And everything went black.

When I woke up my mother was standing over me.  "Aah!" I cried, startled, and snapped my head up.  Looking around I saw that I was in the nurse's office.  "Wait…how long was I out?"

"Fifteen minutes," Mom informed me.

"Wow," I said.

"I know.  We're going to the doctor," she said.  "This isn't normal.  Have you been eating enough?"

"Yeah," I said as I tried to sit up, and the nurse immediately forced a plastic cup full of orange juice into my hand.  I took a few sips and then pushed the cup aside.  "I feel better now."

"Your face is as white as a sheet, Lindsay."  Mom draped my army jacket, which had been lying at the foot of the cot, around her arm, and helped me stand up.  "Can you walk to the car?"

"Yes," I told her, pushing her arm away.  "Do we have to go?"

"Of course," she told me.  "I was going to make an appointment for you anyway.  And now we can confirm…everything."

We were both silent on the ride to the hospital.  As she pulled into the parking lot Mom turned to me, crestfallen.  "Lindsay, I just want you to know that I love you."  She reached over and hugged me.  "And so does your father."

"Thanks," I said.

"And we're going to support you through this whole thing," she continued.  "Even though we may seem angry now, we know what's been done has been done, and we forgive you, sweetie."

I didn't really know what to say.  Harold Weir and forgiveness didn't exactly go together, but at least I knew I had my mom's support.

After waiting for two hours at the hospital and then a series of tests one of the doctors finally sat down, chart in hand, and raised his eyebrows at us.

"Well, it's a good thing we caught this, or else she may have to have been hospitalized," he said.

"Excuse me?" Mom asked.

"Our test results show that Ms. Weir has a kidney infection that should be treated with antibiotics right away."

"Well, are the antibiotics safe for…for pregnancy?"

"She's not pregnant."

I nearly fell off the table.  "What?" I cried.

"We ran a series of tests, Ms. Weir," the doctor explained, "and you tested negative for pregnancy."

"But I'm like a month late…"

"She's been having some symptoms of pregnancy," Mom interrupted.  

"Yes, fatigue, nausea, those were all probably symptoms of the infection," the doctor said.  "She's probably had it for a few weeks now.  But if we get her on antibiotics right away everything should be okay.  Just be sure to get a lot of rest and drink fluids."

My father nearly had a heart attack after dinner when my mom broke the good news.  I felt like an idiot.  Now both my parents knew I was sexually active because of my stupid kidneys.  At least I didn't have herpes or something, I figured.  But I did have to have a two-hour long talk with both my parents, and get reprimanded by Millie over the phone once she called to find out what was up after I missed two days of school because I was lying in bed at home.

"Hey, Linds, if we use protection next time, you won't have to worry about any of this," Nick told me.

"I'm contagious for at least another six weeks," I replied.  Thankfully Nick hadn't been able to pass biology yet and took this as true information.

Every time I came home late from school Mom always eyed me from the corner of the kitchen, but I just smiled at her and told her I had been at Kim's house.  Not to sound too moralistic, but this whole experience taught me a lot.  I knew I could confide in my mother, and I knew that Nick was willing to continue our relationship even if I refused to have sex with him.  That meant a lot to me.  And at least when we were making out we both got pleasure for it, unlike the other activity, which I found to be rather one-sided.  God.  Men are so selfish.


End file.
